prompt based fanfics for kid & maka
by therussianpunk
Summary: Some shortish fanfiction pieces based off of the prompts for OTPs for Death the Kid and Maka (KiMa). pretty fluffy? Rated T just in case. (Soul Eater is not mine nor are any of the characters)
1. A study in Moths

**Imagine Person A of your OTP saying that, someday, they will emerge from their cocoon as a beautiful butterfly. Person B tells them that should be a beautiful** _ **moth**_ **, as technically it's moths that build cocoons; butterflies build chrysalises.**

"Soul shut up." Maka said for the second time that day. Once again, she was getting teased for being "tit-less" as Black-Star put it. Tsubaki was quiet, as one usually is in the library and Black-Star was somewhere making a scene. He had run off and none of them were all too interested in finding him. Death the Kid sat and actually read, Liz and Patty were shopping, or at least he thought so. Maka was glaring at Soul, he was reading some sports magazine and Tsubaki took notes for Black-Star. He failed most tests and she thought she could at least help him on the note parts. Kid wrung his hands and stared at the two, they were separated by the body of Tsubaki but still argued. It pissed him off. He wanted to argue, also he wanted Soul to shut up with his bullshit about Maka. Just cause he has a dick doesn't mean he has to be one. "You know what, one day I will emerge from my cocoon as a 'beautiful butterfly' and I will laugh at you." She spat as she closed her history book shut. She slammed it and they all looked up.

"It's a 'beautiful moth'." Kid whispered.

"What?" Maka asked as she grabbed her bag and Soul smirked.

"Cocoon is moth, chrysalis is butterfly."

"Kid, thats not the point." She groaned.

"No, I'm not saying that you won't turn out beautiful." She glared at him.

"Excuse me? Turn out?"

"No, not what I meant." He waved his arms, growing more and more flustered. Sometimes he should just shut up. "I mean you're very pretty even now, I'm just saying that one day Soul will probably think you are pretty too. I think you're very pretty, so that's not really what I meant." He hissed very quickly, waving his arms. They then both stared at each other. Maka reddening and then Kid blushing harshly. Soul frowned and Tsubaki let out a small snicker. They all just stared at eachother and Kid stood, his chair knocking back. Maka sighed and they both said, almost cued like sick human puppets.

"I should go." They stared at each other once more.

"You first." Kid said and waved his arm.

"Thank you." She said and marched out of the library, trying to not notice that her heart fluttered and that Kid had called her beautiful.

Kid tried not to notice that she had said "thank you" very sweetly; cutely even.


	2. Popcorn is the Key to any Man's Heart

_(Imagine Person A of your OTP trying to throw a piece of popcorn into Person B's mouth and accidentally hitting them in the eye.)_

They sat on the couch. They were alone. The others were late. So they sat. One with a bucket of popcorn the other fiddling with a remote. They didn't speak. They were friends, but didn't speak. Not really, at least. They enjoyed each other's company but both didn't speak. They were supposed to watch a horror movie tonight, also the rest of them were supposed to be here tonight. But once again, the two DWMA students were left alone. Maka at the popcorn and Kid counted the buttons on the remote. He sighed.

"Should I go?" She asked.

"No, it's okay. Punctuality is a virtue, one they do not have." She nodded, and looked back to the large television. It probably wouldn't even fit in hers and Soul's apartment.

"Popcorn?"

"No thanks, it makes your hands greasy."

"Another pet peeve?" He nodded and she smiled. "Should we start the movie?"

"Give it another thirty minutes?"

"Wanna see a trick?" He shrugged and the charismatic Maka threw a popped kernel in the air and caught it in her mouth. She chewed it and gave a cocky smile. He clapped and she gave a mocking bow. She did it once more with three disfigured white puffs. "You try." She ordered and he laughed.

"I doubt I can do it."

"You work with aim, I think you can."

"You have too much faith in me, Maka." She smiled. She gave one popcorn fluff a good swooping toss in his general direction and he caught it with an almost grace. The best part was seeing him, the "prude" according to Black-Star, watch a kernel with his gold eyes and catch it. He coughed and she clapped. He smiled, one of those charming smiles, one of those crooked wicked smiles that Death Lords could do. She took two once again and he nodded. She threw them toward him and laughed when they bounced off his narrow nose. He grabbed his eye and Maka laughed harder. "God Maka, you've got quite a throw." He cried and held his eye.

"Are you ok?" She laughed and scooted two seats over to him. He let go of his eye and she began to giggle. The kernel had hit him in the actual eye and it was beginning to water. She tilted back his head and peered into the eye and smiled. "I'm really sorry Kid." She laughed.

"Stop laughing, it hurts." He grumbled and she quickly frowned; or tried. "Stop it." He laughed and she smiled widely and so did his.

"You were very graceful."

"Promise?"

"Promise." She tilted his face once again to the right and peered into one of those ethereal eerily beautiful eyes that could make any girl melt. That was until you saw them water and notice there was a chunk of popcorn stuff in them. "Kid, there's something in your eye."

"Stop teasing me, I have seen movies, movies Liz and Patty pick."

"I do _not_ mean it as a pick up line. I think Liz and Patty should stop with those movies." She growled. "Do you have Q-tips?"

"In the bathroom." She sped off and he peered after her. Returning with a determined air about her and three Q-tips she sat next to him once again.

"Look at me." She said and held his face, her knees resting on his leg. They both noticed this interaction and Kid looked away to calm the blush on his face. No, he was not good at things like this, especially with Maka. She was dauntingly close, she should know better, she lived with Soul. She should never sit so close to a guy like this, it makes them _feel_ things. Her green eyes looked at him. "Kid, look at me." She tilted his head downward and took one Q-tip.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" He whimpered.

"There is popcorn stuff in your eye." He nodded and sniffled. Yes, sniffled. She nodded and once again held his head and leaned into him. There bodies so close, almost intimate, that was if the situation was different, but it was simple. Kid was proud of his eye's beauty and the power that laid in them and yet he trusted them with witty girl. She was more wittier than beautiful and Kid loved that. She was funny and hated sports and smart and brave. "Hold still, okay?" He nodded and her knee adjusted between his legs and she prodded his eye. His face was very very red at this point and wondered if she knew. She must. "Almost got it." Once again his eye got poked and she wobbled, he held her to steady her movement and she nodded in thanks.

That was when Soul burst thru the door, with great timing like always. Maka was examining the Q-tip and was still as Soul almost screamed. They both looked at him and Maka threw herself back, two seats away from Kid again, he pulled his knees into his chest and they were quite. Soul just glared at both parties and sat down next to Maka.

"Pray for your sake, Kid, that I never find you two that _close_ ever again." He spat.

"I got it." Maka said and waved the Q-tip at Kid and they both smiled. At that point Kid looked like a happy tomato, with his face red and his smile broad. Maka thought it was because of the small popcorn success, but she was naive about these things. Soul and Kid both knew why and said nothing to each other the rest of their usual movie night.

Soul and Maka waved goodbye and she gave Kid a small jokingly wink and he winked back and Soul fumed the entire way home and Maka smirked and Kid dreamt of her that night.


	3. Cheese and Morals

_(Person A is a superhero and Person B is a supervillain who operates in the same general area. They know each other's secret identities, and during the day they go out and fight, and at night they come home and get it on.)_

"Albarn, get your ass in here."

"Sir?" She asked, shuffling her papers and fixing her glasses on her nose. Liz and Patty, the infamous "Beaters" sat on a desk and smoked. Letting the large puffs of smokes drizzle out of them like broken sinks. Soul Evans was shuffling papers, unaffected by the Beaters skimpy outfits and the white smoke. "What is it?" She crossed her arms and looked at him.

"Any news on that Death Lord?"

"If I know anything, you'll hear."

"So you don't?"

"No sir." She groaned and they glared at each other. She was fully capable of being able to catch a villain, that was if she wanted to catch her boyfriend, which she didn't. Not at all, things were going well.

"Is he the Mafia Lord?" One broken sink whispered near Soul's lips as she leaned in and he nodded. She was taller and she blew out white curling smoke like vines.

"Powerful mafia lord that is, he doesn't even do his own work. The others do. Calls themselves the Angels of Death or Shinigamis." Maka said and shuffled her papers once again. "Lord of weapons, drugs, power."

"Oh my!" Giggled the shorter Beater.

"I'll take my leave, sir."

"Maka, you are a prized Soldier of Justice, don't screw this up." How many times had she heard that? She was a _Soldier of Justice_. Hardly meant anything these days to be a damned Soldier of Justice. She liked the comic books, they made her and her troops look like superheros, generally promoting her. She would have liked to be a superhero, all she had was a jacket with her last name stitched onto it and the patches of a few victories.

She had begun working on Death Lord's case one year ago, he was attractive, young and arrogant, she had met him in an alley behind a bowling facility. They had caught each other at gunpoint and daring each other to make the next move. The Death Lord did and asked her on a date, said she was smart, funny, and not naive enough to turn him down. She didn't. She didn't' know why, but he and her went to a small cricket-like restaurant outside of town and he was funny, and charming to watch. She had asked him why he watched her and he had smiled. She liked it. He liked her. And now, here they were, living in her apartment just over a hat shop called "Tsubaki's Hats and Star Dresses" it was blue and black. They seemed unfazed when the tall man walked up the stairs with a gun in his coat and a snarky smile after an officer. He would wave and they would say 'good morning' or 'afternoon sir' and what not.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and looked down at the street, it was so plain under her glare and she was almost impatient to get home. 'Home to Kid' she thought. His real name was Death the Kid and even his father was in the whole "mafia overlord" career. He was bred for it. Being an optimist, she believed he had had a choice, everyone has a choice, but he chose an easier path. He was not a _bad_ person, but after meeting him and loving him, it fogged her morals and perspectives of "good" and "bad" and "evil" and "hero." She was not a hero, nor was he, but in ways, they both were to their own parties.

"Maka!" Tsubaki said, she was the blue haired man's partner, in life or in business, no one really knew. "How are you?" She asked and dropped the teal hat with white roses on the glass counter. The door rang a bird bell and Maka waved.

"Fine. You?"

"Rent's due, Maka." The blue-haired man spat. He was sitting in front of a mannequin and stitching the hem of a pink dress.

"Thanks Black-Star." She hissed and trudged up the stairs miserably, unlocking the door, as was custom. They always locked the door, even when he was home. He was supposed to be home today, he had had to go on a trip with some of his men for a deal in France and the worst part was missing him, she was tired of missing people. He had this effect on her, even just at work, she missed his touch and his laughter and him.

"Kid!" She screamed and dropped her bag and jacket and ran to him. He hugged her tightly and swung her about, kissing her sandy hair. She took his face and kissed him and they smiled in each other. Leaning in once again so not to ever be apart they smiled as they kissed with such happiness and grief of ever being without each other. "I missed you." She said and kissed him once more, and swung her arms around his neck, making her stand on her toes.

"I think I missed you more." He held her waist tightly, never wanting to let go and kissed her head over and over again, her neck and her forehead.

"You are so sappy and a liar."

"You're pathetically cheesy.  
"I know." She laughed and they both just smiled into each other's chests.

"I made food."

"Take out?" She said as they went to the kitchen and he opened one pot and she leaned

down to peer in. "Not take out, wow. Color me in love."

"Good, color me happy." He said and kissed her. He whispered. She

smiled and took off her shoes. His shoes were placed neatly on both sides of the doors, her sheets were made, his jacket folded, and her furniture seemed different. She looked at his feet trapped in green cotton socks, like her eyes. His sleeves were rolled up and he turned abou the kitchen with confusion. "I should clean up your jacket and shoes."

"Yes, you should." She mocked and he nodded, thanking her. She had grown so accustomed to his habits and OCD, he might like that best, he loved that she knew how to calm him and hold him when he sobbed or had an attack. She knew how to help him and soothe him and talk about it. "So what is it?"

"I'm offended. It's orange chicken, except," he held up a finger, "except, homemade." She took him by the waist and kissed him.

"Really? Doesn't look like chicken."

"You aren't a good judge, you could be on a cooking show so shush." He muttered to the chicken that was slightly melted and closed the pot.

"Kid, that's not even how you make chicken. Let me make something."

"No no, it's my treat, so I shall."

"Fine well," she smirked at him and he kissed her forehead. "I'm happy you are home."

"Me too."

They sat at the small table and ate the sandwiches he had badly prepared. There wasn't much you could do to make a sandwich with only cabbage, pulled pork, rice, and cheese. That was, it also had to be symmetrical, so they ate cabbage cheese sandwiches over chipped plates. She refused to use any of his mafia money, that was until he brought up marriage and she almost choked.

"We can't get married!" She had said.  
"Why not?" He had demanded and she crossed her arms.

"I would loose my job, I can't lose my job. I don't want to be the wife of a criminal!"  
"A criminal! Is that all you think? Just a criminal?" He had screamed. "Not the wife to someone you love?" He had slammed the door and slept outside the door. That was until Maka said that if they were to get married, they would elope, he had agreed. It was almost like an unsaid agreement of love, like an almost marriage, just a screwed up one between opposing sides. It mad Maka doubt many things that she could love someone like him.

"They want to know more about you."

"The Soldiers? Say I don't like cabbage, nor do I like cheese."

"Idiot. How do you not like cheese?"

"Lovable idiot, that is." he stared at the sandwich that flopped on his plate. "It smells bad and the texture." He stuck out his tongue.

"Yes, well, I like cheese." She said, the sandwich wasn't very good and she was more interested in the science experiment that was the melting chicken.

"Tell them you found my old apartment, I'll move my things here tomorrow and they can study it in two days."

"Really?" She asked. "Thank you."

"I really hate cheese."

" , let me take you to dinner." She widened her eyes as she stood from her desk and stared at her boss. "The apartment you found was a major lead and we are close. We think he goes under a fake name and can track him."

"Really?" She swallowed, choking.

"Yes, so let me take you out to celebrate." Soul Evans asked once more.

"Sorry, I cannot."

"Oh, you're taken by a mystery man?"

"Yes."

"You never bring him around, it must not be serious."

"Excuse me?"

"He never comes around, what is he too busy to even meet their girlfriend's friends?"

"Yes." 'You aren't really my friends' she thought and kept her eyes on the blue pen that was on the desk.

"A relationship is built on sacrifices."

"It is built on love." She hissed and taking her bag, she was about to go to this eleged apartment and help out a team. "I dont need advice, _sir."_

"Sounds unhealthy if they can't even show up."

"Shut up."

"Just saying, listen Albarn, I'm helping you." He followed her down the hallway to the brass doors with the word 'Justice' engraved on it.

"I do not need your help!" She yelled and walked to her car, opening the door and slamming it. She stared at her hands and shook her head. She had been to this apartment three times, the first night they had ever spent together, he made coffee and had burnt the toast.

It was gloomier than she remembered, the third time she had come to his apartment, over the subway and hovering just over the gunfare factory, was when she came bearing lamps and colored table cloths and posters. They put them up and he said something about having the "dream home of a twelve year old" she had elbowed him and told him to appreciate her work.

"At least it's symmetrical, thank you." He had kissed her by leaning down to her and she smiled a weak smile.

A sick guilty smile.

She smiled the same smile now, in his apartment as she walked about it and took samples. She sighed and check some dressers in his room; he had a lot. She rummaged about, sliding her hand here and there and back. She peeled some tape back on the top of the drawer and held up the picture of them. _Them._ She covered her mouth to keep from laughing and traced his face with her glove and smiled, shoving it into her bag and sighing. He was pushing his luck, his "subtle" way of saying things should change. They couldn't.

She left his old room and into the kitchen with large windows that looked over smoggy skies that people were so afraid of.

No, morals weren't that important, love and morals had nothing to do with each other. You hardly needed morals or any belief in right and wrong to fall in love. You might lose it. You might fall in love and be torn and decide wrong. If there was a wrong, there was no right choice and there was only one choice for her. She had no choice, yes even that went against everything she believed in, but she had no choice. People in love never do.


End file.
